


Someone Like You

by artisticalgorithm



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, M/M, also some more serious stuff, coffee shop AU, is it shippy? you decide, mostly canon compliant with one major difference, silly nicknames and teasing galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4944688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticalgorithm/pseuds/artisticalgorithm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru was a bit of a spoiled brat, and he knew it. </p><p>It wasn't that he hadn't worked hard to get to where he was, because he had, and it wasn't that he wanted to complain. But sometimes, when things didn't quite go his way, he couldn't help but whine to whoever would listen, be it his friends, his family...</p><p>...or the poor barista trapped behind the counter he was currently resting on.</p><p> <em>A "what-if" story about hard work, luck, and two best friends who didn't meet until it was almost too late.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> One day, a girl sat in the teachers' room of a Japanese junior high school and wondered what happens when you don't meet your best friend until after you're both grown up. And thus this fic was born.
> 
> Special thanks to B for being my sounding board and to BB for beta reading. You're the best!

Oikawa Tooru was a bit of a spoiled brat, and he knew it.

It wasn't that he hadn't worked hard to get to where he was, because he had. It didn't matter what it was—volleyball, grades, or sales quotas—Oikawa would accept nothing short of perfection from himself. The heavens only knew all the hours he had spent honing his craft, long after others had given up, after any sane person had gone home for some well-deserved rest. But all that hard work would have been for nothing if it hadn't been for the opportunities life had given him.

Oikawa had been born into a family that didn't want for much. Both of his parents encouraged him and his older sister to dream big, and then taught them that it was hours of hard work and just a bit of luck that would make those dreams come true. When a young Oikawa showed an interest in and a propensity for volleyball, his mother immediately enrolled him in evening lessons at his elementary school gym. He joined the volleyball club when he started junior high school and worked harder than anyone else, earning himself the position of starting setter.

When his position was threatened in his third year by a genius he mockingly called "Tobio-chan", Oikawa honed his killer jump serve to compensate. In the end, however, it wasn't Tobio who was his biggest threat. It was himself. Injuries sustained from overwork nearly kept him from playing in the prefectural tournament, but he was young and healthy and soon made a comeback. He even earned the Best Setter award that year, though a bitter defeat in the finals kept the team from going on to nationals. Oikawa didn't quite learn his lesson, though, and sustained several more injuries during his high school years, each time following a loss or preceding an important match. Even so, he kept trying, and under his leadership, Aoba Johsai's volleyball team flourished.

During a successful stint as starting setter on his university's volleyball team, Oikawa received several offers from pro teams, both in Japan and abroad. But sport stars only burn briefly, if brilliantly. _Besides,_ a little voice in his head whispered, _do you really think you could compete professionally with the likes of Ushiwaka-chan or the freak duo? You couldn't even beat them in high school._ And so, when one of his father's friends offered to hook him up with a summer internship at a marketing firm's branch office in Sendai, he took it.

Oikawa's work ethic and charming personality impressed the company enough that they gave him a job offer for after graduation, and he then spent the next two years rapidly climbing the ranks there. Being located in Sendai meant that he could even visit his family on the occasional weekend, much to his mother's delight. It was a comfortable life, especially for a young twenty-something almost straight out of university.

Yes, Oikawa certainly knew that he was spoiled. As for the other part—the "brat" part—well, it wasn't that he _wanted_ to complain. He realized that things could always be worse and that he should be grateful for the opportunities he had. But sometimes, when things didn't quite go his way, he couldn't help but whine to whoever would listen, be it his friends, his family...

...or the poor barista trapped behind the counter he was currently resting on.

"And the campaign was my idea, so I was the obvious choice for project leader. Why would they assign me to a different project? Don't they know that they can't do it without me?"

The barista looked like he was doing his best not to listen as he hunched over the cash register, but Oikawa knew he had his full attention. It was a slow night at the cafe, and the only other customers in the cozy shop were a gaggle of college-aged girls who were occupying the couches in the corner. The scattered papers and highlighted textbooks suggested that they were there to study, but they were currently just giggling and whispering and sneaking glances in Oikawa's direction. (He was used to it, of course. When you were that attractive, you had to be.)

"I know those questions seemed rhetorical, but you're supposed to at least nod along or something!"

"Huh." The barista glanced up at him before going back to balancing the cash drawer for the third time in ten minutes.

"That's really all you have to say?" Oikawa sipped at his latte. "I miss Kimura-kun. I hope he gets better soon."

That seemed to get the other man's attention. "How did you know he was sick?"

Oikawa shrugged. "Well, he didn't mention a vacation when I was here last week and he wouldn't miss a shift for no reason. It was just a guess." He put his drink down and lay his head on his arms. "I wanted to update him on this whole work situation, but I guess I'm stuck with you tonight."

Suddenly, he looked up. "Hey, I don't even know your name. Shouldn't I know the name of the person I'm telling my life story to?" He leaned in to peer at the other man's nametag. "Ah, so you're Iwa—"

He was cut off as the barista—Iwa-something-or-other—swiftly clamped a hand over his nametag.

"Hey! What did you do that for?"

The barista frowned. "You were looking at me weird. And you don't need to know my name."

"I think I do, though," Oikawa pouted. "Besides, isn't that why they make you wear nametags in the first place?"

The other man seemed to be at a loss then. After a moment, he said, "Well, couldn't you at least have asked for my name like a normal person, instead of staring at my chest?"

"Oh, you're right!" Oikawa brightened. He propped his elbows on the table, put his chin in his hands, and wore what he thought was his most sultry face—the face that had earned him dozens of dates and even more phone numbers; the face that made his fans go wild. He leaned in slightly and purred, "You've been a simply fantastic listener this evening. May I ask your name?"

The other man just stared. "Now I'm really not telling you."

Oikawa's eyes widened. "What, that didn't do anything for you?"

"Definitely not."

"Fine." He folded his arms. "If 'Iwa' is all I have to work with, then I guess I'll just have to call you 'Iwa-chan'."

"What."

"Iwa-chan, don't scowl so much! You're going to scare away customers!"

"If I tell you my name, will you quit with the 'Iwa-chan'?"

"Maybe~"

"Ugh." The barista sighed and then dropped the hand that had been concealing his nametag. "It's Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi Haj—"

"Nope, too late!" Oikawa interrupted. "You're stuck with 'Iwa-chan' now! But thanks for showing me, _Hajime_. I'm Oikawa Tooru, by the way." He paused briefly to grin at the barista.

"But seriously, Iwa-chan, how can they not see that this campaign needs me? Do you think they might just be stupid?"

\---

Iwaizumi Hajime could not believe the kind of day he was having. After finishing a night shift at the convenience store and collapsing into bed for a measly two hours, he stumbled onto campus only to find that he'd somehow missed the memo that their eight o'clock lab session had been canceled. There wasn't enough time to go home and back again, so he ended up dozing in the library until his nine o'clock class started.

Once classes were over, Iwaizumi went back to his apartment, ate lunch, and went to bed. He woke up three hours later to his phone ringing. It was his coworker from the cafe, saying he was stuck in bed with a cold, and no one else was answering, and could Iwaizumi _please_ cover his shift tonight? The cafe would close a couple of hours before Iwaizumi had to be at the convenience store again, so he agreed, partly because he felt bad for the guy and partly because he really did need the extra money.

And that's how a very tired Iwaizumi found himself working at the cafe that evening. It was quiet for the first hour; a few college students drifted in and out, but nothing remarkable happened. Some girls came in during the second hour and decided to take over the low couches and table in the corner with their textbooks. Iwaizumi observed their leisurely study with envy. He was half-considering running to the back and grabbing one of his textbooks to review when it happened.

An impeccably groomed man walked into the cafe with the sort of presence that made the girls in the corner look up and stare. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit, and when he noticed the girls in the corner, he smiled and gave them a friendly wave. _Oh, great,_ Iwaizumi thought, _one of_ those _types._ Iwaizumi quickly made him his latte and wished him a good evening, but the other man sat down at the counter (much to the delight of the girls in the corner) and launched into a complaint about his day at work and the many events that led up to it.

Apparently, the man's name was Oikawa. Ignoring him didn't make him go away, and he kept asking questions like he was looking for advice, so Iwaizumi finally took the bait and answered. "They're probably not stupid. Maybe they just don't think you're a good fit for the campaign."

The other man huffed. "Not a good fit? I _created_ the campaign! No one else could possibly be a better fit than me!"

"Well, then maybe they just needed you on the other project more." Iwaizumi was starting to get annoyed. And the girls in the corner were still staring. And whispering. Didn't they know that was rude?

Oikawa contemplated that idea for a minute, one finger on his chin, before shaking his head. "The campaign is still the more important project, and it needs my leadership. Though I can see why they'd want me on the other project,” he amended. “I'm a great asset to any team."

Just how vain was this guy? "If you're so great," Iwaizumi grumbled, "then maybe you should just do both projects."

What he wasn't expecting was that Oikawa seemed to actually consider that suggestion. "Huh. You're right. I'll ask them about it tomorrow! Thanks for the advice, Iwa-chan!"

Oikawa's phone buzzed from inside his pocket, and he pulled it out to check. A look of surprise crossed his face. "Oh, is that the time? I'd better get going. I'm a very busy man, you know!"

He swung down from the stool where he had been perched and disassembled his disposable cup with a speed and grace that Iwaizumi only saw from regulars. As he reached for the door, he turned to wave. "Bye-bye, Iwa-chan! See you next time!" He grinned, blinding white, before disappearing.

For a few seconds, the only sound was the hum of machines and the soft music playing over the speakers. Then the girls in the corner erupted into giggles. Iwaizumi grabbed a rag and made himself busy scrubbing some really stubborn imaginary stain out of the counter, scowling at it in an attempt to hide the blush spreading rapidly across his face.

"He's trash," he muttered. "Complete and total trash." Iwaizumi took the still mostly-clean rag to the back sink to rinse it, just to get away from those giggly girls who were definitely still whispering and staring. "Oikawa, was it? More like Trashikawa." He snorted, imagining the overly dramatic reaction that Oikawa would give if he called him that to his face. Yeah, maybe he should do that. It seemed like good revenge for the whole 'Iwa-chan' thing.

Iwaizumi froze, water still running over the rag in his hands. Was he... smiling? He never smiled. At least not while he was stuck at the cafe, at least not more than the polite curve he made his mouth into when he was on cashier duty. It just didn't happen. So how was it that he found himself actually smiling, especially after helping the most aggravating customer he'd ever had the displeasure of dealing with?

 _It's just the lack of sleep,_ he told himself. _It's messing with my brain._ He shook his head before turning off the faucet. A glance at the clock showed that there were only twenty minutes left until closing time, anyway. He had closing duties to go take care of; he couldn't be wasting time thinking about that obnoxious guy.

Iwaizumi informed the girls that the cafe would be closing soon and headed to the back to finish cleaning the equipment and storing the unused products. They were gone when he came back to the front a few minutes later, so Iwaizumi slipped from behind the counter, wiped down their table, and did a quick sweep of the cafe. When the clock chimed nine, he hung up his apron, grabbed his stuff from the back, switched off the machines and the lights, and flipped the door sign from "open" to "closed".

 _Bye-bye, Iwa-chan!_ Opening the door reminded him of Oikawa's farewell, of that sickly sweet sing-song voice, and he felt a surge of annoyance. Who did that guy think he was, anyway, complaining to complete strangers and giving them nicknames? And then he had the gall to actually ask Iwaizumi for advice! Iwaizumi grumbled to himself as he locked the door from the inside and stepped through it, making sure it latched behind him. The October air was chilly, and it helped clear his head.

There was one good thing about this whole situation. Oikawa had said, "See you next time," but Iwaizumi had been working at the cafe for months and had never seen him before. He also seemed to know Iwaizumi's coworker pretty well. That meant he was the type of regular that came by on the same day, at the same time, likely on his way home from work. Iwaizumi usually worked at the cafe on the weekends, when someone like Oikawa was probably out on dates or being obnoxious with like-minded people. Tonight was just a one-time favor for his coworker, so there shouldn't be a "next time". He shouldn't see that Trashikawa _ever_ again, let alone soon.

Consoling himself with that thought, Iwaizumi checked the door once more, tucked his chin into his scarf, and began the chilly walk to the bus stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Culture note 1: Those elementary school volleyball lessons are insane! I'm always impressed by the kids' skill level. So much better than me._   
>  _Culture note 2: I have so much appreciation for the night shift kombini workers. They keep me alive. Go, Iwa-chan, go!_   
>  _Culture note 3: You do actually have to take apart your disposable cups in Japan. All the trash is sorted, so the plastic lids go in a different compartment than the paper cups. Even eating at McDonald's becomes a bit complicated!_
> 
> Thanks for reading! This is my first ever fanfic, and it's been a joy to work on! Oikawa and Iwaizumi have quite the adventure ahead of them. I hope you stick around to watch them learn and grow. 
> 
> Feel free to come emote about Haikyuu!! with me over at [my tumblr](http://www.artisticalgorithm.tumblr.com)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 200% more canon references!

Despite his previous reassurances to the contrary, Iwaizumi Hajime told himself that he wouldn't be surprised when Oikawa somehow showed up at the cafe that weekend. He wouldn't put it past that obnoxious guy to ask Kimura about his shifts, or just for luck to be so completely against him that he happened to visit at the right time. But he did end up surprised, because Oikawa didn't show up at all—not that weekend, or the next. 

Thinking back on it later, Iwaizumi felt foolish. Why would a random customer care that much about seeing him again? It's not like Iwaizumi had been a particularly good conversational partner. That "see you soon" was probably just Oikawa's default farewell, just another ploy to make him appear friendly and open and like he actually wanted to talk to you again. 

_What a terrible personality,_ Iwaizumi thought as he shoved yet another packaged croissant onto the shelf. Oikawa confused him. The businessman's dramatics wore Iwaizumi out, but at times it almost seemed like he was using them as a defense mechanism. Was he hiding something? Did he even know that’s what he was doing? The mystery attracted Iwazumi almost as much as Oikawa’s personality repelled him. _It’s not worth the trouble to find out,_ he finally decided. 

The doors of the convenience store slid open, letting in a blast of cold midnight air. Iwaizumi shouted the customary greeting over his shoulder and went back to restocking packaged breads. When he heard footsteps approaching the front counter, he got up and took his place at the register. 

Beep. "151 yen." Beep. "398 yen." 

"Really, Iwa-chan, is that any way to greet a friend?" 

Iwaizumi's head snapped up so fast it made his neck hurt. 

"I see they make you wear nametags here, too," Oikawa said smugly, unzipping his coin pouch. "Good for them." 

"You look terrible," Iwaizumi blurted. 

And he did. His clothes still looked expensive and his smile was as bright as Iwaizumi remembered, but Oikawa's whole body sagged a bit, as if he was carrying a heavy, invisible burden. His hair was messy and his bloodshot eyes were underlined by dark purple bruises. Iwaizumi had seen a nearly identical face looking back at him in the mirror many, many times, and he briefly wondered when Oikawa last had a good night's sleep. 

Oikawa clicked his tongue and shook his head sadly as he started counting out coins. "I walk an extra block out of my way to get my favorite sandwich just to find out the cashier has bad eyesight. Me, look terrible? No way."

Iwaizumi snorted. "And now I suppose you're going to complain about work, like last time?"

"A-ha, so you do remember me!" 

"No one else calls me 'Iwa-chan.' Of course I remember you." He paused, then added, "Trashykawa." 

Oikawa gasped, one hand to his chest. "Ouch, Iwa-chan! Why the hurtful name-calling?" 

Iwaizumi shrugged. "It's no worse than 'Iwa-chan'." 

"But 'Iwa-chan' is cute! Unlike some people I could mention." Oikawa stuck his tongue out childishly. 

"Seriously?" 

They stared at each other for a moment, neither one willing to back down. Then Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. It was late, Oikawa obviously needed sleep, and he wasn't in the mood to be babysitting a grown man. He shoved the purchases into a small plastic bag and punched numbers into the register. "Here's your change, here's your receipt, thanks for your purchase. Now go home and rest!"

Oikawa's eyes widened at the sudden outburst. Then he tilted his head and smiled, almost too pleasantly. "Iwa-chan, are you my mom?"

Iwaizumi stared back. 

"Okay, okay!" Oikawa held up his hands in mock surrender. He picked up the small plastic bag. "Listen, some old teammates of mine are visiting me this weekend, and I thought it'd be nice to take them to the cafe. So you'd better be on your best behavior, 'kay?" And just like last time, he grinned before disappearing through the sliding door. 

_So he_ did _ask Kimura about my schedule._ Iwaizumi smiled wryly and went back to restocking breads. 

He took Oikawa's statement as a warning and tried to prepare himself mentally for another exhausting encounter. But three days later, Iwaizumi found himself at the cafe, jumping every time the little bell on the door jingled. Saturday's shift had been much the same, and he was starting to think the anticipation was going to kill him. Luckily, the lunch rush kept him busy for a couple hours, but once that was over, he was left alone to stress again. 

When he realized there was only half an hour left in his shift, Iwaizumi started to wonder if he was off the hook. At this rate, Oikawa wasn't going to show up at all. Just like last week, and the week before... If Oikawa's goal was to keep him off-balance, it was certainly working. 

As soon as he finished thinking that, the door jingled again. When Iwaizumi saw who it was, he wasn't sure if he felt more relieved or annoyed. Oikawa walked in, two others in tow. He noticed Iwaizumi standing behind the counter and waved. 

"Ya-hoo! Iwa-chan!" 

_Ah,_ Iwaizumi thought, _here we go again._

\---

Oikawa Tooru was exhausted. He really did like his job, but it was starting to take a toll on both his mental and physical health. Even so, when Hanamaki messaged him to say that he and Matsukawa would be in town for the weekend, Oikawa decided to set aside an afternoon for them. He didn't often get to spend time with people his age, and it had been a while since he'd seen his old teammates. The break from work would be welcome. 

When they got to the cafe, Oikawa greeted Iwaizumi, shrugged out of his coat, and slid onto his usual stool at the counter. "Sorry we're late, Iwa-chan! Lunch took forever."

"So you're the famous Iwa-chan, huh?" Hanamaki sat next to Oikawa. "Nice to meet you. I'm Hanamaki Takahiro." 

"Matsukawa Issei," his second companion volunteered. 

Iwaizumi nodded at each of them in turn. "Iwaizumi Hajime. Nice to meet you. What can I get for you?" 

The three of them placed their orders, and Iwaizumi got to work making their drinks. While they were waiting, they chatted. 

"Oikawa said you were his old teammates?" Iwaizumi asked. 

"Yeah," Matsukawa answered. "We played volleyball together back in high school." 

"I played on my high school team, too. Wing spiker. Haven't played in ages, though." Iwaizumi smiled. 

Oikawa gaped at him. "Wow, Iwa-chan is actually being nice today!" 

"Shut up." He glared at Oikawa. 

"A-ha! There's the Iwa-chan I remember! He isn't as scary as he looks, though," Oikawa explained to his companions. "He's the one who gave me that advice, after all." 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa nodded, but Iwaizumi looked up from the drink he was preparing, a confused look on his face. "Advice?" 

Oikawa waved a hand in the air. "You know, that advice about work." No reaction. "About the campaign?" Still nothing. Oikawa sighed. "I guess Kimura-kun didn't tell you, then?" 

"I didn't tell him what?" Standing in the doorway of the cafe was a sleepy looking young man, cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He saw Oikawa and smiled. "So you did come." 

"Kimura-kun!" Oikawa wailed. "You said you were going to tell Iwa-chan thanks for me!" 

Kimura shrugged. "This is my first time seeing him since Wednesday." 

"Couldn't you have texted him?" he asked. 

"It didn't seem that urgent. I would've told him today, but I guess you beat me to it," Kimura replied, unwinding the scarf around his neck. "Hang on, let me go clock in." 

Oikawa watched him go, still a bit surprised that Kimura hadn't just texted. He admitted that he was a bit of a phone addict, but it was kind of a necessity for someone as busy as him. Besides, if he didn't text someone right away, he'd probably forget what it was he was supposed to tell them. _Is that a bad thing?_ he wondered. _What if there's something wrong with my memory? What if I'm getting old prematurely? Will I die early?!_

His panicking was interrupted by Iwaizumi placing his coffee in front of him. "So," Iwaizumi probed, "What advice did I give you?"

"Oh! You know last time, when you said I should just do both projects, since they both need me so badly?" Iwaizumi rolled his eyes slightly at that, but Oikawa ignored him and continued. "Well, I asked my bosses, and they said I could head up the campaign project, as long as the rest of my work doesn't suffer." He beamed at Iwaizumi. "This is the first time they've let me lead something. I think this might be my big chance for promotion, and it's all thanks to you!" 

"Ah," Iwaizumi said, not quite meeting Oikawa's eyes. "Okay." 

Hanamaki clapped a hand on Oikawa's shoulder. "He's been going on about the 'brilliant Iwa-chan' all day." 

"He was talking about it on Wednesday, too," Kimura said, tying his apron as he emerged from the back room. "Took me a minute to figure out who 'Iwa-chan' was, though." 

"That's not my name," Iwaizumi grumbled. 

Oikawa chose to ignore him and launched into introductions, gesturing dramatically. "Kimura-kun, this is Makki and Mattsun. Makki, Mattsun, this is my fantastic barista, Kimura-kun. I entrust him with my deepest, darkest secrets." 

Hanamaki raised one thin eyebrow at Kimura. "Oh? Anything worth sharing?" 

Kimura shook his head. "Not really. He usually just complains about work." 

"Hey, I don't—" Oikawa started to protest, but was interrupted by Hanamaki, who had finally decided his coffee had cooled down enough to drink. 

"Oh, my gosh. This stuff is amazing. How could I have lived in Sendai for so long without knowing about this place?" 

"I know, right?" Oikawa replied, his previous objection forgotten. "I happened to walk past on my way home one day, and I was hooked instantly. Of course, it's a good thing Iwa-chan wasn't working here then. His scowl scares away customers, you know." 

"That's not true, and you know it, Trashykawa." Iwaizumi shot back. 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa howled. "Trashykawa, huh? I'm going to have to remember that one," Matsukawa said. Hanamaki leaned over the counter to shake an embarrassed Iwaizumi's hand. Kimura laughed, one hand covering his mouth. 

"Hey!" Oikawa protested. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Oikawa was surprised to discover that despite the teasing (or maybe because of it), he was having a really good time. It was a relief to find that his old teammates meshed so well with his new friends. 

_Friends._

That thought made Oikawa pause. It wasn't too much of a stretch to call Kimura a friend, since he'd talked to him nearly every week for almost a year now. But could he really call Iwaizumi, who he'd only talked to three times and knew almost nothing about, a friend? Probably not. _A friendly acquaintance, then,_ he mused. Not that Iwa-chan is particularly friendly. 

In the end, Oikawa decided not to worry about the details. Work would resume tomorrow, and there would be plenty of things to stress over then. Today, he would just enjoy the warmth and the laughter that he found in a small Sendai cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Culture note 4: The workers greet you with "irasshamase!" every time you walk into a store. It's kind of nice to be welcomed like that all the time._   
>  _Culture note 5: There are convenience stores everywhere in Japan, and they have SUCH good food. Almost a third of my meals come from the kombini... and I've been known to walk an extra couple blocks to the next one if the one I'm at is out of something I wanted._
> 
> Thanks for reading! The plot really ramps up in chapter 3, so look forward to it! 
> 
> Sadly, this year, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo. I'll try to continue writing this story, but things may be a bit slow! I apologize in advance! That said, I'm sure I'll need breaks from the novel writing. 
> 
> As always, feel free to come emote about Haikyuu!! with me over at [my tumblr](http://www.artisticalgorithm.tumblr.com)!


End file.
